


You're my Endgame

by waywardelle



Series: Pillow Talk [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, M/M, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:57:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5741071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardelle/pseuds/waywardelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2 of "Pillow Talk," in which Sam reassures Dean that there's nowhere else he'd rather be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're my Endgame

**Author's Note:**

> This is my interpretation of what Sam and Dean talk about after they have sex, right before they fall asleep all wrapped up in each other.
> 
> x-posted on my tumblr @ pathossam.tumblr.com

“You don’t know, do you?” 

Dean, who’s made a comfortable home in the gorgeous curve of Sam’s sweaty neck, brushing his lips back and forth against the place he knows makes his little brother’s eyelashes flutter, grunts questioningly. 

“It’s still a question in your mind,” Sam sighs, threading his long fingers through Dean’s hair, coaxing him to gently keep sucking on that one spot where his jaw meets the skin underneath his ear. “You still think the end goal of all this is me getting out of the life, settling down. You think this is temporary for me.”

Dean, who’s uncomfortable with emotions at the best times, draws away from Sam. Why he always has to do this when Dean’s defenses are down, when his dick is still twitching with the last spurts of come inside his brother, he has no fucking idea. Maybe that’s why, maybe Sam likes to talk about them when they’re one body. Like he doesn’t already know they share one soul. 

“I know this isn’t what you wanted,” Dean admits hoarsely, groping for the dirty towel Sam had stripped off his waist when Dean got back to his room to find his little brother all spread out on his bed, two elegant fingers stuffed up inside of himself. “That you’re happy, yeah, but this is what you got stuck with. That I’m a, a, consolation prize, or something.” 

It’s been over 15 years since Sam left him to chase higher education dreams, and even though Dean was and is so proud of his little brother, he knows Sam leaving is something he’ll never quite get over, something that will sting for the rest of his life. 

“Dean,” Sam sighs, squirming a little as Dean wipes him down with the towel, pressing his legs back so he can get in all his creases and crevices. “I begged you to come with me. All the times I left, don’t you get it? I wasn’t… I wanted you there. I missed you so bad. I’m not… You let me go back to Amelia, don’t you remember that? You let me go. She told me, she told me that if I stayed, she would be with me over her husband. She chose me. But I chose you.”

Dean lies down next his brother, unable to stop touching him when he’s this open, this gorgeous, this Dean’s. “I don’t think I get what you’re tryin’ to tell me.”

Sam rolls over, burrowing his face against Dean’s chest. Dean can feel the scrape of his stubble as Sam tries to get closer, feels just as frustrated as Sam’s little huff when he can’t. He’s always had this urge to peel back his skin, let Sam up close to his heart. 

“There’s never been anything, anyone that I want more than you. Every time we parted was all circumstantial. Horrible deaths, or I thought I was right, or you were too ashamed to let me see you misbehave. But there wasn’t a second that I wasn’t lonely for you, Dean. I’m lonely for you if we’re in the same room, and you’re too far away. If you go on a supply run, I wanna be on the phone with you, just to hear your voice. There’s no life for me beyond this. There’s no getting out, no settling down unless you’re there with me. There’s,” Sam sighs out a hot breath, kissing at Dean’s nipple, and Dean presses him closer with a gentle hand in Sam’s hair, “there’s no me without you. That’s what you don’t get.”

They fall quiet then, Dean listening to the way his brother breathes, the smell of his breath that’s had the same scent since Sam was a baby. Dean doesn’t look to his own future much, but when he does, it’s bleak. It’s him, dying alone in these fortress walls, alcohol in his bloodstream, his last thought of how lonely he is for Sam. To think that future is false, that Sam is determined for it to be both of them or nothing, well. He can’t think around that for a second. It’s too big, too everything he’s ever wanted. He’s not used to getting anything he wants, let alone everything. 

“You swear?” Dean asks finally, the terror and joy of it making his voice weak. 

“You callin’ me a liar?” Sam mumbles, smiling up at Dean with hair falling in his tired eyes. 

“You gonna stick around to remind me?” Dean asks gruffly, rolling to his side to wrap Sam up closer, so they’re pressed together from their strong chests to spent dicks. “I’m gonna forget.”

Sam just smiles in that Sphinx-like way that’s both beautiful and infuriating, but it’s that smile that sticks with Dean, follows him all the way down into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
